


under the blue sky

by marmolita



Category: Marco Polo (TV)
Genre: Background Jingim/Kokachin, Background Marco/Kokachin, Dom/sub Undertones, Episode Related, Episode: s2e06 Serpent's Terms, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 10:32:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7680937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmolita/pseuds/marmolita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a kinkmeme prompt of what if Jingim and Marco hadn't been interrupted by that horse in s2e06?</p>
            </blockquote>





	under the blue sky

**Author's Note:**

> [Here](https://marcopolokinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1298.html?thread=7954#cmt7954) is the kinkmeme prompt that inspired this. :)

"I didn't know being married would change me," Jingim says, pushing himself up on one hand.

"Jingim, you've been married four times since you were seventeen," Marco replies, looking at him incredulously.

"This time it's different! Kokachin is . . . different."

Marco considers his words carefully -- as carefully as he can after the amount of airag he's consumed. "She seems exceptional."

"Well, she is," Jingim says, laughing. His smile lights up his face, and Marco can't help thinking that perhaps someone as exceptional as Kokachin is more suited to someone as exceptional as Jingim than to a smart-mouthed merchant's son. Who is he, to compete with a prince? ". . . in every way, but . . . it's not just that."

Marco looks out into the distance. "Something you cannot name," he suggests. He certainly can't name his feelings for Kokachin anymore, nor his feelings for anyone in this strange country. He's been living in a dream world for the past year, and he's never quite certain if it's a fantasy or a nightmare. Perhaps both.

"Yes," Jingim sighs. "It's like looking up at the sky and seeing only one star."

"Well, soon it'll be two stars, no?" Marco elbows Jingim, who grins at him in return, then lays back on the ground.

"It'll be a relief, to finally have an heir," Jingim says, "and also a relief to not have a pregnant wife. I've barely gotten to see her in months the way Mother keeps her cooped up." He sighs, pulling up one knee. "How do they do it in Venice? Do men fuck their pregnant wives?"

"I would assume so," Marco replies, trying not to think too hard about Jingim and a pregnant Kokachin in bed together. "I've never done it."

"Mother says it's too risky. 'You've got three other wives, Jingim,' she says, but she doesn't know my other wives like I do. They'd be angry with me if I ignored them for months only to show up now."

"Whores, then?" Marco suggests, glad to move the topic off of Kokachin. "Your father has many."

"Mmm," Jingim hums, "that would be an option. But I must admit I have no desire to enter a field already plowed by my father. What about you? I saw you watching that singer earlier."

Marco laughs and lays back in the grass next to Jingim. "Ahh, she was beautiful. If she were to come to my _ger_ I wouldn't say no."

"That would be a sight, the two of you. Her form is more like that of your women, is it not?"

Marco blinks a few times in confusion. "Yes, I suppose you could say that, but . . . did you just say you would want to watch?"

Jingim raises himself up on his elbow and leans over Marco, eyes traveling down his body, bright and shining with drink. "Your pale and delicate skin twining with hers? I can appreciate aesthetics, Marco. Many of the Europa traders we see are hairy beasts of men, but you're quite handsome."

Marco's cheeks heat under Jingim's gaze, helplessly imagining having sex with the singer while Jingim stands and watches, with the same intensity he brings to everything he does. He's not sure if it's the idea of being watched that makes the image so titillating or the idea of being watched by _Jingim_ but he finds his trousers starting to get tight.

"Hmm. You like that idea? Being watched while you're fucking?" Jingim's eyes narrow and Marco licks his lips self-consciously, suddenly nervous. Leaning further over him, Jingim says, "Tell me, Master Polo, would you only want me to watch? Or would you want me to join you?"

"P-- Prince--" Marco tries to put words together, something, anything to escape this before he makes a fool of himself, but he comes up with nothing. Jingim reaches a hand out and curls it down the side of Marco's face, and weak with drink and desire, Marco leans into the touch.

Jingim's lips curve in a sly smile, and then he's descending, lips closing onto Marco's, hot and demanding and tasting strongly of airag. Marco opens for him, wondering if Jingim kisses Kokachin like this too, or his other wives. Kokachin certainly didn't kiss like this, strong and demanding, invading his mouth like a triumphant conqueror.

Marco's surprised by how much he likes it. When Jingim pulls back, Marco follows his lips, reaching his head up off the ground until Jingim is out of reach. He takes a heavy breath; Jingim laughs at him. "You look surprised, Marco."

Marco scrambles for words. "I-- I was not expecting-- for Christians, it is a sin," he says finally, as if that would make him want it any less.

"Is it not also a sin for Christians to have sex outside of marriage?"

"Well-- Yes, but--" Marco sits up, not sure if he's trying to find a way out of this or into it.

Jingim cuts him off with a hand on his chest, fingers just skimming the edge of his collar. From the moment they met, Marco knew that Jingim was dangerous, but it's all too easy to forget when he's smiling and laughing. Now, though, the predatory glimmer in his eyes is unmistakable; Marco imagines this must be what a field mouse feels like, caught in the gaze of a hawk. His heart thumps a fast beat in his chest, and every time Jingim's fingertips brush his bare skin it sends a jolt of heat through his body. "Give me a reason why I should not have you right here under the blue sky."

Marco swallows. "I cannot."

"Then forget about your Christian sins and come here, Latin." Jingim slides his hand around Marco's neck and tugs, and Marco follows where he's led, right into Jingim's lap. Jingim kisses him again and Marco responds, hot and eager. The hand around his neck tightens, then slides up into his hair and tugs his head back, baring his throat for Jingim's lips and teeth. Marco shifts his hips, feeling the heat of Jingim's growing erection pressing against his own.

He wants to get his hands on skin, somewhere, anywhere, so he tugs at Jingim's belt until it comes loose, then slides his hands under his tunic. Jingim hums contentedly and moves one hand down to grip Marco's hip, tugging him closer and then slipping around the waist of his pants to loosen the ties in front. Marco kisses him again, lips seeking lips and tongue seeking tongue, dizzy with lust. When Jingim's hand reaches into his pants and pulls out his cock Marco can't help the low moan that breaks from his throat.

Jingim chuckles and gives him a few slow strokes while Marco gasps, mouth inches from Jingim's, breath mixing with his. Marco gathers his wits enough to get his hands on the laces of Jingim's pants too, but he can't seem to get them open. Jingim bats his hands away and does it himself, pulling his cock free and circling his hand around both of them at once. Marco grabs Jingim's shoulders to steady himself and thrusts into the circle of Jingim's hand, making them both groan.

Marco sets up a rhythm, rocking into Jingim's hand, cock sliding against Jingim's, hard and hot. The friction is almost too much but not quite, teetering exquisitely on the razor edge between pleasure and pain. Jingim pushes back from the other side, hand tight around them, hips twitching up in little jerks. They move together, breathe together, forgetting the complexities of court politics in the simple search for pleasure, striving to reach that pinnacle and then tumbling over the edge, Marco with a groan and Jingim with a breathy sigh.

They stay like that for a long moment, then Marco tumbles off Jingim's lap, falling on his back on the soft earth. "Mmm," Jingim says after a few minutes. "After the baby comes, and my wife recovers . . . you would not be unwelcome in our bed."

Marco looks at Jingim out of the corner of his eye. If he can't have Kokachin to himself, he supposes having her and Jingim both would be a fine substitute. "Your wish is my command, my Prince," Marco says, "but you'd best ask your wife about that first."

As Jingim laughs, the sun begins to rise.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [r3zuri](http://r3zuri.tumblr.com) for brainstorming help! Please forgive me if I have anything massively wrong in terms of clothing, language, etc. for the period. I admit I did not do much (any) research for this.


End file.
